


Melting Snow

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: norsekink, Dubious Consent, Jotun!Loki, M/M, Thor Has No Idea What He's Doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is on a quest to prove his manhood by bedding somebody of another race. What sounds easy becomes very difficult when the following things and persons come into the picture: Loki, Loki's father, Fandral and his ambition to 'help' and - of course - very embarrassing misunderstandings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/7418.html?thread=15336442#t15336442) norsekink prompt, which was - in turn - inspired by [ric951](http://ric951.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d4sal65) and her lovely picture.

He could hear nothing except for his own breathing. His heart was pounding in his chest and his eyes darted to the left and to the right. He was alone. All alone. Not lost, for lost would imply that he had no idea which direction would be the right one to take to reach his destination, and that was just plain wrong. He knew very well where he had to go, he was just ... not entirely certain how he could get there.  
  
It didn't help that everything looked exactly alike. Really, would it have killed the Jötnar to build roads or at least paths so that not every visitor were to be as lost - no, not lost, but alone - in this Hel of snow and ice? No wonder they did almost never get any visitors (which was probably what they wanted), no wonder nobody in the Nine Realms liked them (which was not entirely true), no wonder bedding a Jötun was something rare and special - noboby could freaking find them (which only made them all the more desirable).  
  
Still, Thor thought as he fought his way through the snow, as the cold wind clawed at his face and body, as he wrapped his fur coat closer around himself, he would not fail in his quest - his two quests, actually -, for he was the son of Odin and the prince of Asgard. He was too strong to submit to the natural forces of this blasted realm. He was ... not able to feel his legs anymore and his fingers grew numb, and with just a spark of sorrow, everything went dark in front of his eyes as he lost his consciousness.  
  
-  
  
 _"You are almost of age," Fandral said with a grin that showed way too many teeth.  
  
"I know."  
  
"There is not much time left."  
  
"I know," Thor repeated and gave a sigh as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes in annoyance. Honestly, whoever had invented this stupid tradition should be slapped repeatedly. Coming of age was something every Aesir looked forward to, for they finally were seen as adult men and able to found their own family. Thor did not want a family. He didn't want a wife and an heir and it was still too early to claim his rightful place on the throne. Could he not ... just wait until he needed to marry for political reasons?  
  
"It's a foolish tradition," Sif said and snatched an apple out of Volstagg's grasp. "You will be as much of a man if you refuse to fullfil it."  
  
Fandral shot her a shocked glance and put a hand over his heart. "Mylady Sif, how can you say such crude words? Every man who thinks himself a warrior leaps with joy at such an opportunity to prove his worth!"  
  
"I remember," she said with a smile and bit into her apple, "a certain brave and noble warrior who tried to bed an Infernir and had to spend quite some time in the Healing Room because of his ... painful and embarrassing injuries." There was a hint of a smirk on Hugun's lips and Volstagg laughed heartily at Fandral's flustered face.  
  
Thor did not feel like laughing at Fandral's misery. He was too occupied with his own fear to fail just as spectacularly - or even worse, since the thought of trying to lie with an Infernir or a Troll (who really were anything but good-looking, and the stench was horrible!) did nothing to arouse him even in the slightest. Maybe he could go the easy route and try his luck with the dwarfs, although that route would actually not be very easy at all ... because how should he able to differenciate between a girl dwarf and a boy dwarf? Both sexes came equipped with beards (very long and very well cared for, even though one always expected to find dead - or even worse, living - animals hidden inside that mess of a beard) and about ten to twenty different and sharp weapons hidden on their body, including their teeth. And Thor really wouldn't want any important body parts bitten off by an angry dwarf.  
  
Fandral put an arm around Thor's shoulder and beamed. "As you can see, our good prince is bored by the thought of bedding only a lowly creature. But do not worry, my prince," he said, grinning, as Thor tried to protest, "for there is one - and only one - race whose worth is is almost on the same level as an Aesir's."  
  
Thor could see Hogun's lips narrow into a grim line. He grimaced. He had a bad feeling about this.  
  
"A Jötun," Fandral said in a whisper, just loud enough for them to hear and quiet enough for the word to sound like the beginning of a promising horror story.  
  
"No," Sif said quickly. "The All-Father has forbidden any trips to Jötunheimr and any actions that might disturb the peace between our realms." (And Thor had never been more grateful for his father.)  
  
"The All-Father would never have to know!"  
  
"Then how should Thor get to Jötunheimr without the All-Father's permission?"  
  
"Heimdall will understand he importance of the journey!" An argument between the two broke out, while Hogun only sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest and Volstagg tried to intervene, and Thor used this little quarrel to slip away unnoticed.  
_  
-  
  
The cold had gone. He was wrapped in a warmth that was not unlike his mother's embrace. He felt comfortable, secure. Was he back at home? Did his parents find him, help him, save him? He blinked and slowly sat up, looked around. No, this was definitely not the palace. The walls around him were not golden, but white, almost transparent and crystalline. There was none of the beauty and wealth of Asgard, even though this place had its own kind of beauty as well.  
  
"Oh, you are awake?" a voice asked and Thor's head jerked into the direction the sound was coming from.  
  
A Jötun was standing at his bedside, his eyes - red as blood, red as fire, red as the most intense sunset - shimmering with curiosity. He was small. Not even as tall as Thor was. A child? No ... the voice did not sound like a child's. A runt. Thor looked him over, saw the lean and slender limbs, the long and elegant fingers, the dark markings on his skin. He let his gaze linger on the Jötun's face, his strange eyes, the high cheekbones and aristocratic nose, his thin lips. The Jötun had black, slicked-back hair, which made Thor stare in wonder - he'd never seen a Jötun with hair. Was this one special? Or did the warriors shave their heads when they went to war? That would make sense; a runt would not be suited to fight.  
  
Slowly, the Jötun came closer, his brows raised in a questioning look. "You can speak, can you?"  
  
"How did I get here?" Thor asked. "And where is _here_ , anyway?"  
  
A small smile grazed the Jötun's lips and Thor was sure he'd never seen anything as beautiful as this smile. "I brought you here."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Should I have left you to die?"  
  
"No! Of course not." He fidgeted with the blanket. "I'm just surprised."  
  
"That a Jötun would ever do something nice for an Asgardian?" The smile was still there, reaching his eyes, and when he spoke he showed white teeth and a surprisingly dark tongue that wetted his lips (lips that were begging to be kissed and bitten, Thor thought). "Would you feel better if I told you I only saved you so that I could eat you? Torture you for my amusement? Force you to be my pet?" He laughed at Thor's horrified face and went to sit down beside him, looking very solemnly and sincerely. "We have peace, Asgardian. And I will not be the one to break it."  
  
Oh, well, thought Thor and felt a pang of guilt rising in his chest, since he knew that his actions would have most likely shattered every truce the Jötnar and the Aesir had worked so hard for. At the same time, however, he knew that - for his test - he would have this Jötun and him alone as his mate. Never in all his life (which consisted of approximately seventeen years and three hundred and forty-five days) had he ever laid eyes on anything or anyone this beautiful, this /worthy/ for the son of Odin. "Do you have a name, oh peaceful one?"  
  
The Jötun tilted his head first to the one side, then to the other. "My name is Loki."  
  
"And mine is Thor," he answered and nodded, indicating a small bow, "the son of -"  
  
"- of Odin," Loki interrupted and made a throw-away gesture. "I have heard of you. What an honour," he said with a smirk, "to have royality at my humble quarters." Thor had the feeling of being on the receiving end of some joke, but before he could ask, Loki stood up in one languid motion and looked down at him. "Rest some more, Young Majesty. When you feel well enough, I will have to take you to the king. I ... I am sure he wishes to know what it is you desire in Jötunheimr."  
  
Actually, Thor would bet the Jötun king really did _not_ want to know his desires. That was what he thought. What he said was: "I bid you my thanks, Loki, for I do have to speak to your king about urgent political matters." This - thankfully - was nothing but the truth.  
  
-

_He managed to avoid Fandral for the next few hours. A fact which involved lots of hiding and sneaking around, and he felt like a coward, but at least it gave him time to think. He would need to talk to his father. It was a well-known tradition, after all, one he would not be able to escape, and Odin would know how important it was to pass the test as soon and as honorable as possible. Fandral was right (however hard this was to admit): Thor was a prince, Thor was going to be king, Thor needed to do something outstanding. If he tried to just ignore everything and celebrate his eighteenth birthday without proving his manhood, people would talk, would call him a weak king, unworthy, unfit to rule. He had to go to Jötunheimr and his father_ _had to allow it.  
  
With quick steps, he entered his father's chambers to find Odin changing his robes and getting dressed for this evening's banquet. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, at which his father turned around and shot him a questioning look. "Father," he said hastily. "I need to speak with you."  
_

_"A fateful coincidence, indeed," Odin remarked, "for I wanted to have words with you as well."  
_

_Oh ... Thor blinked and frowned. He had done nothing wrong, had he? This surely couldn't be about the little brawl in the town tavern last week. Nobody had been hurt ... at least nobody important. Like him. Then it dawned on him: His father had not forgotten about Thor's test of adulthood and would now surely advice him to -  
_

_"Son, you will journey to Jötunheimr at once."  
_

_Ha! He_ _knew it! "Of course, father. I -"  
_

_"And you will demand an audience with the giants' king, Laufey, to ask him to accompany you back to Asgard. I wish to discuss the idea of returning the Casket to its rightful place."  
_

_Thor's face fell. "But ... "  
_

_"Your mother and I believe that you are suited best for this journey, since it is time the people of Jötunheimr get to know the crown prince of Asgard. You are almost of age, after all.  
  
"Yes, father, about that ... "  
  
"About this, we will talk once you have returned."  
  
"... yes, father."_


	2. Chapter 2

Thor spent the next hour thinking while outside of his temporary chambers sounds of busy servants (and possibly maids, but who could know for sure? Thor had never seen a female Jötun and he wasn't sure they even _had_ females) could be heard. He seemed to be inside the palace of Jötunheimr; a thought that sent cold shivers down his spine. Being surrounded by former enemies ... Yes, they had a truce now, but Thor was no stranger to the old tales of the great war and the many Aesir and Jötnar who had lost their lives in battle. Sometimes, he had wished he'd have been able to take part in the war to prove his strength and to defend his home, his family and friends, As he grew older, however, he'd started to understand that war was nothing to be desired. He had seen old and honored but crippled soldiers - permanently scarred in body and soul and mind -, had seen widowed Aesir women and orphaned children and had realized how lucky he was to still have both of his parents.

He had heards bards sing songs about Jötunheimr and its wealth, its former glory that had even surpassed the glory of Asgard. Returning the Casket would make both realms equal once more.

Laufey would surely be very desperate to get his hands on the Casket. Maybe Thor could use this to his advantage, could negotiate a trade: an audience with his father in exchange for one night with the little runt Loki. It wasn't exactly nice, but Jötnar and Aesir had never been nice to each other, and a negotiation like this one could enable Thor to pass his stupid test without declaring a new war.

With this plan in mind, Thor stood up and straightened his clothes. There was still one more problem: How did one bed a Jötun unharmed? Their flesh was freezing, their touch a biting chill, and he knew the cold could burn an Aesir to death. Maybe - if he was very lucky - the runt was too weak to hurt him. He certainly looked weak. Like a little servant boy, fragile like the ice itself. Thor could easily make him submit if he only had the chance. He imagined grabbing those slender wrists and pinning Loki onto the bed, imagined digging his fingernails into tender flesh and leaving marks and scratches. The thought made him shiver in anticipation.

"Well, well. Look who's on his feet again." Thor spun around to see Loki standing in the doorway, the ever-present smirk back on his lips. "You really look _mightier_ than before, now that you're no longer blue in the face."

"And you know all about being blue," he shot back and regretted it already when he saw Loki glaring at him annoyed. _Don't enrage someone you want to lie with_ , he thought to himself. _You don't want to use unnecessary force. You want him to be ... honored to be your mate._

"Obviously," Loki said with a scoff and turned on his heels (and Thor shuddered at the though of walking on ice and snow with bare feet). "Come, Your Majesty. King Laufey wishes to see you now."  
  
-

Thor learned that the palace of Jötunheimr was not confined to one building (unlike Asgard and its many rooms and floors and towers), but consisted of about a few dozen buildings scattered all over what was left of the town, with the throne room bordering the town's market place. At Thor's confusion, Loki only laughed and said: "Not the people should come to their king, the king should come to his people." Somehow, Thor believed just this statement to be some sort of hidden insult all in itself.

"You seem very well versed in the matters of how a royal should behave."

"And you do not. And I am well versed in a lot of matters."

 _Yes, and one of those is how to be a bastard._ He glared at the small giant. "Just how old are you?"

He could see Loki hesitating before he answered: "I'm seventeen," he finally said and Thor nodded, calmed by the fact that he would not bed a child but someone of equal age.

"And what is it that you do here?"

Now, Loki smiled. "I escort young Asgardians to the king."

"You know what I mean!"

"Of course." But he did not answer the question, and Thor rolled his eyes. A mystery boy, indeed ...  
  
-

Laufey was a true giant. Not only in size but also in his whole demeanour. He simply _oozed_ authority out of every pore, and Thor felt just a little bit intimidated, because even without rising from his throne (an object skillfully crafted out of the finest crystals in the world, sparkling in a hundred different shades in the afternoon sun), he was _towering_ over the young prince, who bowed slightly (no prince should kneel, after all). Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Loki did not kneel as well and wondered whether this was simply one of the strange customs in this realm.

"Tell me, Odinson," demanded Laufey, and his voice was a low grumble, old as time and snow themselves, "what you are seeking in the giants' land."

"I thank you for allowing me to speak with you, King Laufey," Thor said as courtesy would have it. "My fa- The All-Father wished for you to meet him in the Golden City of Asgard to discuss the returning of the Casket of Ancient Winters."

Laufey's body stiffened visibly for a moment and then he relaxed again, smiling a smile full of secrets - none which Thor could understand, of course. "I see. It has been a long time since the Casket has fallen into the All-Father's hands. We should not let it wait any longer. We will leave for Asgard at once."

"But ... " His eyes darted to Loki and he bit his lower lip. This ... was not good. He would not have the opportunity to return to Jötunheimr again. He had to ... stay here at least one more night.

"There is no time to waste, Asgardian." Laufey paused and looked Thor over with a scrutinizing gaze, then smiled again. "And my firstborn son shall come with us, for he needs to broaden his horizons and gaze into realms outside of this one."

Thor opened his mouth to protest again, but Loki quickly stepped forward and bowed. "As you wish, father," he said and Thor could feel his world turn upside down.

-

The journey back to Asgard was strange, to say the least. Not only because the three of them walked in an eerie silence, but also because his mind was spinning and his thoughts were reeling. There was a world of a difference between bedding a servant or a peasant or even defeating a warrior in a fair fight and claiming their body as a victory prize - and sleeping with a prince. A crown prince at that. He would not dare to make Loki submit to him, now, if he didn't want to suffer from his father's wrath. _Or_ _worse_ , he thought as he looked over to Laufey, who was not only as tall one of the _gigantic_ statues in the halls of Asgard, but also stacked and equipped with more muscles than any man he'd ever seen. It was easy to remember the old stories people told, in which Laufey had fought side by side together with his warriors, and he had no difficulties at all to imagine Laufey snapping poor Thor's neck if he laid so much as a hand on his dear son. The thought made him shudder and pull a face.

"Is everything alright?" Loki, who was walking next to him, asked. When Thor turned his head to him, he couldn't help but smile at the sight he was greeted with. Loki had discarded the loincloth Jötnar usually wore and had instead changed into a pair of white pants (made out of the leather of whatever animal the Jötnar were able to find in this ocean of white ice) and a sleeveless fur vest into which dozens and hundreds of small gems were woven. It made Thor wonder how he could ever have thought Loki to be anything but a prince.

"Yes," he said with a smile and raised his voice. "We should be there soon."

And he should be right. Only mere minutes later, they were standing atop a cliff in literally the middle of nowhere, where they could see for miles. Not that there was much to be seen except for radiant white that was so bright it was alsmost hurting his eyes.

"Well, what now?" Loki asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and smiling an amused smile that made his eyes sparkle. "Is the famous Rainbow Bridge of Asgard going to appear in front of us, so that we can walk to your little city?"

"Something like that. Though Asgard is neither little nor mine yet," Thor answered with a wink and looked up into the sky, shouting Heimdall's name at the top of his lungs. Shortly after, he felt the familiar pull of being _summoned_ , of being brought from one realm to another. His whole body felt light and heavy at the same time and a certain dizzyness set in, making him feel light-headed. Like flying without wings. Colours were dancing in front of his eyes, shapes were shifting, rearranging themselves - and then he was standing on his feet again. He blinked once, twice to make the dizzyness go away and then nodded gratefully to Heimdall who told them that the All-Father would be waiting outside the observatory.

Laufey acknowledged him with a polite nod and made his way to the front doors, and only when Thor wanted to follow, he noticed the crushing grip Loki had on his wrist.

At the same moment, Loki must have noticed it as well, for he drew his hand back hastily and with a distraught and embarrassed look on his face and he cleared his throat before rushing after his father.

Thor followed them with a smile on his lips.

-

Sure enough, Odin was waiting for them, flanked by two guards and wearing his ceremonial armor. Thor could see one of the guard's fingers twitch into the direction of his sword and hoped that the man would not get scared or feel provoked enough to draw his weapon and do something rash, thoughtless. Loki seemed to have seen it as well, because he straightened his back and fixated the guards with his oddly-coloured eyes. Then he smirked and took two steps forward until he stood at his father's side. He might look calm , but Thor noticed how his muscles shifted, his body stiffened and he knew Loki would not hesitate to fight and protect himself and his father.

Not that Laufey needed protection at all; if he'd wanted to, he could grab each and any of the Aesir - including the All-Father - by the throat and choke the life out of them before anybody was able to react. Not a reassuring thought ... Not at all.

"It has been a long time since we've last met," Odin said while looking up to the giant (who had decided to pass on the blatancy of wearing insigniae and who looked as much like a warrior as ever).

"Indeed," Laufey agreed and laid a hand on Loki's shoulder. "You remember my son." It was not a question, and Thor wondered when his father could ever have met Loki. He blinked in surprise at the All-Father nodding his head and saying that he welcomed his guests in Asgard and that they should discuss any other matters in the palace - and then he turned his back to Laufey, unshielded, unprotected. The guards readied themselves for a fight that did not come, Laufey only smiled at them (the same smile Loki would flash at Thor the very same night; all edge and teeth and underlying danger hidden in pleasantries ... but let's not rush ahead) and followed the All-Father with Loki following.

Thor hurried after them, but was stopped in his tracks as Fandral - who had, together with Thor's other friends, watched the arrival of his prince and the frost giants from afar - caught up with him. "Let them do their royal business, my prince, and entertain us with your stories. Did you succeed in conquering a Jötun's body?" he asked with a wide grin on his lips.

"Well ... "

"Oh, of course you have. How could I ever have doubted you?"

"Actually ... "

"You must share your tale with us over a cup of steaming-hot mead to warm yourself. A frost giant's touch is, after all, chilling to the bone."

"There are no tales to tell, Fandral. I did not bed anybody."

"What?" Fandral looked crestfallen, his mouth agape and a confused look in his eyes. "Why not?"

The others had come closer and Thor could feel their eyes on him, could feel a shameful blush rising in his cheeks. "I spent most of the time unconscious."

"Unconscious?" Sif echoed, her voice sharp with worry. "Are you hurt?"

"No. No, no," he said quickly. "A Jötun saved me."

"Then why did you not show her your gratitude by bedding her?" Fandral muttered darkly.

"Because she is a he and Laufey's son on top of that. You have seen him just now."

"That was Laufey's son? The runt?" Fandral scoffed. "I thought him to be a manservant. A gift for the All-Father." When Hogun said that one should not judge a book by its cover, for looks could decieve, Fandral only shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth to speak again.

Whatever he'd wanted to say, was - however - interrupted by Volstagg who advised them to go back to the palace. "I'm sure the All-Father requires Thor's presence. And I'm sure there will be a banquet to honour our guests. I would loathe to miss even a second of it."

-

They feasted until nightfall came and until most of the nobles and servants lost their instinctive fear of the visitors. Laufey stayed at the far away end of the table, seated next to Frigga and Odin, joined in a heated discussion which Thor would have loved to overhear, but wasn't able to - thanks to them being so far away and him being forced into conversations he had no interest in participating.

He was far too busy with watching Loki, who had left his father's side some time ago and was now surrounded by maidens and warriors alike. They were nagging him with questions and he was answering with one of those smiles on his lips that promised secrets and untold stories. Thor decided he liked this smile and he would love to make Loki laugh for once, for real (The laugh he'd had when he'd scared Thor did not count, because Loki had been laughing at him, not with him). He could only imagine how wonderful it would sound like, for Loki's voice was like the touch of velvet on naked skin; dark and deep and sensual, but fleeting, gone too quickly, only leaving the faintest traces of a memory behind.

Right now, Loki was not laughing, only smirking and smiling and telling stories about his home, promising that, really, the Jötnar did not kidnap and eat Aesir children for fun. "At least I haven't," he said. "But who knows what I'll be doing tonight." As he said this, he was peering at Thor (who had trouble not to choke on his mead), voice thick and rich with promises.

"Did you see that?" Fandral whispered and elbowed him into the side, making him wince. "He is _inviting_ you! He is making eyes at you like a woman! He practically _is_ a woman!"

Thor snorted and rubbed his aching ribs. "You of all people should know that the female body has certain features the male body lacks."

"But _you_ should know that he is fairer than any man we've ever seen."

Thor nodded without being completely sure if this was meant as answer to Fandral or as one to that oddly-coloured gaze. Anyway, Loki lowered his lashes, averting his eyes. And for the rest of the evening, they did not look at each other again.

This very night, Thor left his room and sneaked over to the chambers of the little prince of Jötunheimr.

-

He had his hand raised, intending to knock, and was actually taken by surprise as the door opened and red eyes looked at him curiously. Thor liked his lips and managed to stutter a greeting. "Might I come in?" he asked and, sure enough, Loki nodded and stepped back into the room, with Thor following and closing the door.

"What can I do for you, Your Majesty?"

Thor blinked in confusion. Had he misinterpreted the situation and the look Loki had given him? Had he been wrong? Had the Jötun not invited him his bed? It appeared this way, since he was neither greeted with a seductive smile (like the one his wenches gave when they slipped into his chambers at night) nor a warm - or rather, cold - body sliding into his arms. "I," he started and swallowed audibly. "I am here to ... " How should he explain? How should he tell him? It would be so much easier if Loki were not this _unique_ , this strange and special, and instead like any other member of his race. "I need to fulfill a tradition."

As he was searching for the right words to say next, Loki simply nodded. "I know."

"You know?"

"Father has told me," he said and then, after a moment of hesitation added: "And I accept."

"Are you sure?"

"It is ... an honour," Loki said and Thor had the feeling he'd wanted to say something completely different. But he didn't. He just sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up to Thor.

"... and your father is not going to smash my skull in with a blunt object?"

At that, Loki had to chuckle and shook his head. "He knows about the importance of this ... duty."

"Then I," he paused and swallowed. His throat was suddendly too dry. After a short intake of breath, he said: "I thank you for allowing me to lie with you. It is an honour for me as well."

"I should hope so. Otherwise, _I_ might feel the need to kill you."

They both shared an uneasy grin and Thor came closer, raising a hand to Loki's cheek and caressing the cool - but not unpleasantly so - flesh with a thumb. "It will hurt."

"Because of your inexperience or as a part of your customs?"

"The latter."  
  
Loki's voice was barely a whisper as he slightly turned his head to press a kiss to Thor's palm, nuzzling it with a sigh. "Then do your worst, Your Majesty."


	3. Chapter 3

As he slowly approached him, Thor wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good idea. He didn’t want to do his worst, didn’t want to hurt Loki. He looked so fragile, so delicate, as if a flick of Thor’s wrist could snap his neck. He didn’t like that thought in itself, but he _did_ like the fact that Loki was weak and slender and already imagined his large and broad body covering Loki’s smaller one.  
  
He licked his lips and leaned forward to kiss Loki on the cheek, letting his lips linger there for a few moments before pressing more kisses to his jawline. When he captured Loki’s mouth with his own, he could feel himself sigh and smile because of those soft lips. The smile quickly faded when he noticed that Loki did not respond to the kiss at all, and when he drew back to look at him questioningly, he thought that - if it wasn’t for the slow rise and fall of his chest - Loki resembled a motionless statue, made out of the same ice he had been born into. His body had gone completely still and rigid, he had dug his fingers into the fabric of his pants and on his face was a stern and determined look that only his eyes betrayed, for they were wide with fear.  
  
It hurt Thor to see him like this, to be the reason of those frightened eyes. Carefully, he took Loki’s face in his hands (and it stung in his chest when Loki seemed to consider jerking away for a second). “Have you done this before?” he asked softly.  
  
Loki’s eyes were a pool of emotions - fear, uncertainty, shame -, before they hardened again and his lips curled upward in that familiar smirk. “Father thought the future king of Asgard would prefer me inexpierienced.” Before Thor could say anything, before he even could sort out those conflicting feelings this statement arose (pity and horror because of the responsibility he was now burdened with and the sheer possessive joy of being the first one to lay his hands on this beautiful creature, to stain and taint and mark him), he quickly added: “How would you have me, Your Majesty?”  
  
He did not answer, but instead kissed Loki again, trying to coax him into responding. He whispered calm words of reassurance, of fondness and gratitude and could finally - finally! - feel Loki melt and relax in his embrace, felt soft lips brush over his own again and again, heard small gasps and sighs coming out of that sinful mouth. “You are very brave, my prince,” he told him, brushing a strand of black hair out of his face and a thumb over his cheek. Once more, they shared a smile, though it was not as scared and uneasy as the last one. “I will have you on your back. I want to see your face.”  
  
If Loki was surprised about this demand, he did not show it and instead retreated further back onto the mattress, lying down in large and soft cushions. His hands shot up to his pants to strip out of them, but Thor grabbed his wrists. This time, Loki did not hide his surprise. “Did I upset you in any way, Your Majesty?”

 _Why would you think so?_ he wanted to ask. _What did your father tell you?_ he wanted to know.  _Do you have similar tales of death and horror about us Aesir as we tell about you Jötnar?_ he wondered. “Everything is fine,” he said simply and smiled softly. “But why the hurry, little one? We have all night. And I swear to take good care of you,” he added and reached into one of his pockets to produce a small vial of colourless liquid and then placed it onto the bedside table. At Loki’s perplexed expression, he stated that it would ease the way.  
  
“You will not take me dry?”  
  
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”  
  
Loki huffed and raised his brows. “Seems you Asgardians aren’t as barbaric as I thought.”  
  
Thor only smiled sheepishly. There really was no way in Hel he’d tell Loki just _how_ he knew that he’d have to take some preparations.  
  
-  
  
 _“Look, no - can you - can you just - Fandral, be quiet!” But all of Thor’s attempts were futile and Fandral was still babbling and nagging, the sound grating on Thor’s ears and nerves, until he finally snatched a chicken leg out of Hogun’s hands and stuffed it into Fandral’s mouth, effectively silencing him (making Volstagg snigger and Sif commenting on how wonderfully silent silence could be). “Spare me with your advice, please. I am no child and no blushing maiden before her wedding-night!”_  
  
 _Fandral removed the meat from his mouth and gave a sigh. “I do not deny your conquests, prince,” (and Sif rolled her eyes. “Silence, may you be granted a place in Valhal. You were a cherished companion.”), “but you are aware that your experience is limited to the female sex, yes, Mylord?”_  
  
 _“So?”_  
  
 _“‘So?’ Did you hear that?” he asked while looking at the others, then he threw his arms into the air with an exasperated sound. “‘So’, he says. My word, what a disaster this could have been. Thankfully I am here to save the day and the prince’s dignity.”_  
  
 _“All you’re currently doing is embarrassing me.”_  
  
 _“Better now than later, dear prince,” Fandral said with a wink and rummaged in one of the many hidden pockets of his coat. “It is not possible to lie with a man as you do with a woman. You will need some help.” When he brought his hand up again, it held a glass flacon with some kind of clean liquid. “This should do.”_  
  
 _“Do you intend me to drug him if he were to struggle?”_  
  
 _“By the Nine, no!” It was only then that Fandral explained to him the pleasures a male body could offer - in a hushed voice, to not upset the fair maiden’s ears. In the end, only Thor’s ears were upset. The rest of his face was flushed in some sort of twisted excitement. When he asked how Fandral of all people knew this, the man only grinned. “Do you think they call me ‘The Dashing’ because of my fashion style?”_  
  
-  
  
Loki’s eyes were on him, his gaze unreadable and Thor swallowed once before capturing his mouth again. This time, Loki responded freely, parting his lips eagerly, allowing him entrance. Thor did not hesitate, even though he still felt uneasy; he deepened the kiss, cherished it while closing his eyes and letting a hand fall into black hair, grabbing a handful of it when he felt Loki’s tongue brush against his own. When Loki winced, he broke the kiss to look at him for a moment before he returned to kissing and nibbling and biting Loki’s lower lip until it was swollen and bruised and Loki’s breathing was already audible and quickened. However, he made no move to touch Thor, was instead clutching the sheets so hard his knuckles turned a paler shade of blue.  
  
“You may lay your hands upon me,” Thor said quietly and couldn’t suppress a chuckle when Loki’s cheeks flushed and he stammered that he did not believe this to be appropriate, considering he was supposed to be the ‘female’ part in this act. Thor leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Loki’s ear, giving it a lick and a bite. “Then I will take good care of you,” he growled and sank his teeth into Loki’s neck, relishing in his surprised shout, leaving a dark, almost purple bitemark and whispering fragments of “so pure” and “so innocent” and “mine” against his skin. Loki tasted of salt and sweat and ice, and he smelled of the first few hours of a winter’s day, chilling and fresh and pure, and some kind of after-shave (though one might wonder if he even was enough of a man to shave). It was intoxicating, arousing and made him yearn for more. The buttons of his vest were easily torn off, the fabric shoved out of the way for Thor to latch onto Loki’s collarbones, grazing them with his teeth. He could feel Loki shudder, could hear him gasp and moan and decided this sound was more beautiful than even the music of the most talented bards. Softly, he stroked Loki’s flanks and looked at him to give him a solemn glance. “Your body is so cold,” he said - not exactly surprised, but still somehow wondering how this was possible. Especially considering the fact that Loki was slowly getting hard, his cock straining against the tight fabric of his pants. It was … simply unusual, strange. His body should be hot, should be burning from arousal. Frost giants really were different in every way …  
  
Loki laughed softly, his lips curling upward as he reached out and ruffled Thor’s hair like he was a small child and not the mighty and future king of Asgard. “It’s my nature.”  
  
“I understand this,” Thor said and smiled back, happy that Loki seemed to have stopped lying there and praying for it to be over soon. “And I believe it is my duty to make you feel warm.” The blush on Loki’s cheeks was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen. It was time, he thought, to make him blush even more. His fingers slid over Loki’s chest, down his ribs and abdomen and back up, making Loki shiver in - hopefully - delight and anticipation. He teased Loki’s nipples with his thumbs, eliciting breathless gasps and throaty moans, and when he raked his nails over them, Loki squeezed his eyes shut with a silent scream while his hands clutched at the broad muscles of Thor’s arms.  
  
“P-please,” he whimpered (and Thor was overcome with joy to notice the begging stutter in this little word). “Your Majesty … “  
  
How wonderful the words sounded like this, all breathy and unsure, some of the calm and collected appearance and voice shattered. Oh, and Thor would wreck it completely, he swore to himself. “I will take you now. Don’t be afraid,” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of Loki’s face.  
  
“I am never afraid.” The lie was so vehemently told that Thor almost believed him, if it wasn’t for his lashes lowering in what wanted to be a seductive move, but only made him look like a frightened boy, made him look so much younger, so much more delicate than he was.  
  
“I did not mean to insult you,” he said, gently stroking Loki’s cheek.  
  
“You didn’t.”  
  
 _No, I didn’t_ , he responded in his mind. _You simply wanted to assure yourself, didn’t you? You are scared of me, you are scared of this, you are scared of me finding out that you are scared. Very brave, indeed._ Slowly, carefully, he let his fingers slide downwards and cupped the buldge in Loki’s pants with his palm, massaging it and drawing loud moans out of the little prince’s throat. With great delight Thor saw him tremble and buck his hips to seek more friction.  
  
Loki’s mouth hung slightly open, loud and needy sounds escaping his lips, and he had his eyes squeezed shut, which meant he could not see Thor smile broadly, could not see his lips part and latch onto a nipple, licking and sucking harder and harder, making him moan and writhe under Thor’s broad body. When he dug his nails deeper into Thor’s biceps, Thor grunted audibly and started to unfasten the bindings of Loki’s pants. “Raise your hips,” he ordered.  
  
With a blush on his cheeks, Loki complied and looked at Thor - whose eyes were fixed on Loki’s crotch and the way the tight fabric slid down to reveal the hard and already leaking shaft. He whimpered as his cock sprung free and then quickly bit his lip.  
  
“You can’t wait, can you?” Thor whispered into his ear, giving it a lick and a bite. “So _eager_ to grant me the gift of your virginity.” He didn’t give him time to answer. Why should he? Loki’s willingness was obvious to the eye, so he wasted no more time with pleasentries and instead opened the vial and coated his fingers whith the sweetly smelling fluid. “Open your legs for me,” he grwoled and licked his lips when Loki did as he was told, when he spread his long legs and pulled them up to his chest - all the while looking away, not meeting Thor’s gaze - and Thor was granted a much more wonderful sight. His index finger caressed Loki’s hole for a few moments before slipping inside him. It was … different and familiar at the same time: Hot and tight, but not wet like the wenches Thor was used to. The sounds, however, were the same. Low and surprised whimpers when he moved his finger in and out, guttural and greedy sounds when he crooked it and rubbed that spot Fandral had told him about.  
  
As he slid a second finger into him, Loki clenched around them tightly, so tightly that Thor almost feared he’d break his fingers, while bucking his hips and arching his back, and - with an animalic scream - released all over his stomach and chest. Neither of them dared to breathe for a second - and then Loki was apologizing profoundly, stammering and stuttering while Thor still tried to regain his ability to speak. Never in his life would he forget the split-second where his little princeling lost all of his calm demeanor and control. Never would he forget how Loki had thrown his head back to reveal his pale throat, how he’d squezzed his eyes shut (and how there were tears in the corners of his eyes), how his cock had convulsed and spasmed and his body had been shaking and trembling.  
  
It made his blood boil in his veins. Only now he was aware of his own almost painfully hard arousal and he decided that it was finally time to claim what was rightfully his. He removed his fingers and hastily opened his own breeches, hissed under his breath as his hand accidentally brushed against his erection. He could see Loki’s eyes widen at the sight of his cock and smiled proudly. “No need to be impressed. Yet.”  
  
Loki bit his lower lips and swallowed audibly, then stammered something about not being sure and maybe waiting and “It won’t fit”, but Thor wouldn’t have any of it. He reached down to coat himself with the fluid, grabbed Loki’s legs to spread them even further and - with one single thrust of his hips - seated himself inside the Jötun. Loki’s groan mirrored his own, his thin lips parting a little, and Thor kissed him again to steal the breath out of his mouth and to swallow every sound. However delightful they were, there was no need to wake up all of the palace. He briefly paused and refrained from moving until he got used to the feeling of _tight_ and _hot_ and _mine, all mine_ , then he started to move carefully, only to lose his contenance very quickly when Loki’s teeth found his shoulder, when his hands clutched at Thor’s hair and scalp. It was impossibly intense. Thor could not stay slow and loving, not when he could finally feel Loki’s body grow warm and hot, not when there was a faint sheen of sweat on Loki’s brow, not when his cheeks were flushed with arousal and his breath was going so quickly that Thor almost started to worry about Loki hyperventilating and losing consciousness.  
  
… but only almost.  
  
Most of Thor’s thoughts were occupied with pounding and thrusting harder, gripping those narrow hips so hard that Loki would be bruised the next morning, his eyes closing on their own while he was slamming his cock in and out of Loki’s wonderfully tight hole without noticing the smaller body tremble underneath him, shaken by sobs and muffled screams. Only after his own release, which made his wholy body convulse and shiver and the sound coming out of his throat was neither a scream nor a sigh, but a breathy groan of pure bliss and completion, he opened his eyes to look at Loki with a satisfied smile on his lips, which froze again as he got aware of the tears in Loki’s eyes, of his trembling frame.  
  
“I … ” He wanted to say something nice and meaningful, wanted to say he was sorry, but words failed him as he hastily slipped out of Loki - and there was blood and Loki whimpering and Thor felt his stomach turn, because he’d broken his promise, had hurt Loki, had gotten careless and _just not taken care of him_! He’d promised! … and failed -, stuttering something that resembled an apology.  
  
Loki bit his lower lip once more, breathing deeply and closing his eyes to calm himself. As he opened them again after brushing his tears away, any emotion was locked away again. “I expect the next time to be better,” he stated as calmly as if he was talking about the weather.  
  
“Next time?” Thor echoed disbelievingly. How could Loki _ever_ want to lie with him again?  
  
“Well, of course. How else do you expect me to produce your heir?”  
  
“My heir?” In his confusion, his voice was getting a little shrill, a little shocked.  
  
“Why do you repeat everything I say?” Loki asked, his brows arched.  
  
“Because I have no idea what you are talking about!”  
  
Loki was silent, looking at him intensly, looking him up and down in calm wonder. Then he smiled and shook his head. “You almost had me fooled, Your Majesty. But I cannot believe you’d be so cruel to make me think you would not accept our marriage.”  
  
He felt like he’d just received a blow to the gut and his face fell as the word echoed in his mind. _Marriage. Marriage? Marriage!_ Oh, for the love of Odin, what had he _done_?  
  
“What is it?” Loki asked, obviously noticing Thor’s confusion and discomfort. And then, he listened quietly as Thor collected all of his courage and told him the truth about their liaison, their meeting, about his test of manhood and about the fact that he did not intend to marry at all - and not a Jötun! To see the feelings change in Loki’s eyes and on his face hurt more than any scar Thor had ever received in any battle. To see Loki go from confusion to pain to horror and finally to the point where Loki looked like he wanted to cry again tugged at Thor’s heart and he tried to reach out and embrace him, comfort him.  
  
But Loki quickly sat up, making a sound of discomfort, and retreated back, avoiding Thor’s touch. His face was contorted in rage and he bared his teeth. “A test?” he asked with a snarl. “You … you defiled me, you _dirtied_ me, because of a _test_?!” With every word he grew louder until he was yelling, screaming in anger. Green and blue and red sparks were floating from his fingertips as he grabbed Thor by the collar, the room was growing cold, bitingly so, ice crystals blooming on Thor’s shirt and digging into his skin until he hissed in pain. Only then did Loki grab him by the throat - and the cold was getting under Thor’s skin, burning him from the inside out, like a cold hand clenching around his heart, like daggers piercing his bones and flesh and muscles -, baring his teeth like a cornered animal ready to attack. “This means war, Asgardian!”  
  
Thor felt his blood freeze - though this was most likely due to to his panic than to whatever sorcery Loki was using - and opened his mouth to say something to save the situation, only to be pushed away with full force. He landed on his side next to the bed, coughing and gasping for breath.  
  
“And now,” Loki said coldly, “get out before I slay you right here.”  
  
He didn’t need to tell Thor twice …  
  
-


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say that I'm honoured and overwhelmed that you're still with me. Even though I'm so awefully slow. =/

Contrary to his recent actions, Thor was not stupid. He might not always think about what he was doing, might sometimes - or often - run head-first into danger without thinking about the consequences, but even Thor was very much aware that he had - to put it nicely - fucked up royally. He also knew that he had to do something to prevent a war from happening. Honestly, he could understand Loki's rage and anger. Maybe he would have acted the same if their situations had been the other way around ...   
  
Without really noticing it, he stalked through the abandoned hallways, turning left and right and wandering aimlessly, deeply in his thoughts, his panic and frightened state of mind.  
  
His father would know what to do. Yes, wise Odin, old Odin. Just a nod of his head, a handful of words from his mouth would be enough to dispel this uneasy situation, to calm Loki - and his father, oh Lord, Loki's _father_! - and make sure any declarations of war were to be dropped.  
  
To his own surprise, he found himself in front of Fandral's chambers, which was not the worst place to be, especially when he really had to talk - or rather yell - st somebody right now. So he knocked - not exactly softly, but not as hard as to tear down the door, either (though he would have every reason to do so, he thought).  
  
After a few moments that felt like hours, Fandral opened the door with his being extraordinarily disheveled (Thor would have grinned if the situation hadn't been this severe, since Fandral so very vain and careful with his appearance that he took the utmost care of himself; even on the battlefield, there never was a single hair out of place), rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You are aware how late it is?"  
  
"This is too important to wait until dawn," Thor said and hastily invited himself in by shoving Fandral out of the doorway. "Close the door. We need to talk." While Fandral did so with a tired groan, Thor sat down on the nearest chair and folded his arms in front of his chest. "I fear I brought a war upon us."  
  
Fandral blinked in confusion, his eyebrows raised and his head cocked to the left. "How? Why? Did-" He looked at Thor alarmed. "- did somebody attack you, my prince? Just say the word and-"  
  
Thor held up a hand and Fandral fell silent. "I did follow your advice," he said. "I took the Jötun to bed. I ... proved I am a true adult and proved I'm only an egoistical child as well." He explained the situation he was in, explained his and Loki's misunderstanding, told him about the threats of war Loki had spat into his face.  
  
Fandral stayed silent for a long time, brushing his thumb over his bearded chin, solemnly looking at Thor's unhappy frame. Finally, he shook his head and said: "I see no other choice for you. It seems you will have to marry."  
  
"But I don't want to!" he exclaimed and - as soon as he saw Fandrals face turn into a grimace - instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing.  
  
"Sometimes life is not about what we want, my prince, but about what we are responsible to do."  
  
"Well, why don't _you_ marry him? You encouraged me to lie with him!"  
  
"Thor ... I have seen the way you looked at him. I might have pushed you into the right direction-"  
  
"Right?" Thor echoed disbelievingly. "Have you lost your mind?"  
  
"But," Fandral continued, "you would have taken him anyway. Maybe not tonight, but soon enough."  
  
"I ... " No. Yes. Maybe. ... most likely. Damnit. He sagged a little and gave a defeated sigh. "Yes."  
  
"There is nobody to blame, dear prince," Fandral said quietly and stepped closer to put a hand on Thor's shoulder. "Not you. Not me. Not him."  
  
"Father should have told me."  
  
"I'm certain he had his reasons not to."  
  
"Father always has his reasons," Thor said sadly. "He must not have trusted me to ... be responsible." And didn't that thought hurt more than any battle wound?  
  
"He must have not wanted to burden you with it."  
  
"I will have to talk to him, won't I?" he asked and finally looked up to Fandral who nodded slowly and calmly. "I will not like this talk."  
  
-  
  
He found no sleep this very night. He was too deep in his thoughts, was too scared of his father's anger and his mother's disappointed gaze. There would be no war, this he was sure of. The All-Father would prevent it. But at what cost?   
  
Thor bit his lower lip. Would he be punished? Cast out? Would he be given to the giants? To Loki? Would he be left at his mercy? Well, then he could as well leave the palace grounds and jump off the Bifröst right now. That would spare them all a lot of shouting.  
  
With shaking hands he got dressed and made his way to the throne room to face his father and the consequences of his actions.  
  
-  
  
As he opened the doors to the throne room, he could see his parents - his father standing tall and proud and menacing while his mother was still seated and bore a serious expression - and the giants' king who did not look too happy. Thor's heart skipped a beat and he bit his lip again. Had they been arguing? About what? About him? Did Laufey want to rip off his head and feed it to some kind of frost monster for defiling his darling son?  
  
Slowly, carefully he stepped closer - and was now able to overhear their conversation.  
  
"It is still too early to hand over the Casket," his father said in a hushed voice.  
  
Laufey growled, a sound like crackling ice and bursting land. It made Thor flinch, but the All-Father was very pointedly unimpressed and did not even raise his brows. "My people have been waiting for almost twenty years," Laufey hissed. "This is not _too early_ , Odin, this is _about time_!"  
  
"After twenty years, another day or two will not matter."  
  
Laufey's hand shot out, grabbing Odin by the collar. He bent down a little so that they were eye to eye. "Are you trying to sneak your way out of our bargain?"  
  
"I simply ask for a few more days until my son will have understood -"  
  
"It is none of my concern if you failed to raise your brat correctly!" Laufey all but spat in his face.  
  
This was - in Thor's opinion - the moment to gather all of his courage and speak up. "Erm," he said (not very courageous, admittedly) and just a second later all eyes fell upon him. He gulped audibly and exhaled deeply, straigthened his posture before indicating a small bow. "Father, mother," he bid his greetings and turned to the giant. "King Laufey, I appreciate your concern, unnecessary as it is. I have been raised quite well and ... I am aware of my duties as the prince of Asgard. Thus, I shall marry your son if he wishes to do so as well."  
  
If his father was surprised, he did not show it, and instead shot an approving smile first at Thor, then at Laufey. "You heard it. Should Loki wish to -"  
  
"There is no 'should'," Laufey snapped. "My boy shall marry yours. It is his destiny."  
  
Odin simply nodded and said: "Then let me accompany you to my vault to finish our ... trade." Together, they left the room (and when Odin passed by Thor, he squeezed his shoulder and smiled gently).  
  
As soon as they had left and the doors had closed behind them, his mother got up hastily and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry," she said while ruffling his hair.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"You shouldn't have found out like this. We should have told you earlier."  
  
"Then why didn't you?"  
  
"We had hoped it wouldn't come to this. We had hoped Laufey would father a girl."  
  
 _... and then everything would have been alright? I would still have had to marry, but you didn't want me engaged to a boy?_ "You could have told me."  
  
"Yes. I know. You are more mature than we had thought."  
  
If this was supposed to be a compliment, then it wasn't a good one. It really failed to cheer him up.  
  
"I'm so sorry," she said again. "For both of you."  
  
"Yes." He was sorry as well. For himself. For Loki. Mostly for Loki.  
  
"There is one more thing," his mother said and drew back, straightened her clothes. "If ... when you marry, you will automatically pass your test of adulthood, since it is to be expected that you consummate the marriage."  
  
Thor forced himself to smile. "I understand. Thank you, mother." And with a sigh he said: "I think I should search for Loki and talk about our future." _But only if he doesn't castrate me before I can even open my mouth._  
  
\--  
  
Loki had been unable to find any sleep. He had lain in the darkness of his chambers, stared at the ceiling and spent the time thinking. He had failed. He had brought shame to himself and his people.  
  
All this time he had been raised to submit to the Asgardians' will, to sacrifice himself so that his people could finally live without fear, without poverty, without ... having to hide in the shattered ruins of a once glorious kingdom. All he'd had to do was to lie back and pray for it to be over, to satisfy the Odinson's greed, which - yes - he had managed, but then ... then his pride, the sole thing his father had told him to shed when he invited the Asgardian to bed, had taken over - and destroyed everything.  
  
Now he had hastily declared a war his people had no chance of winning, a war that might erase even the rest of his kin. All he had wanted to do was to make his father proud ...   
  
_What will father say now?_ he asked himself with a frightened shiver, and simply imagining his father's diappointment brought him to the brink of tears. And as the first streams of sunlight shone gently through the gaps in the drapes hanging in front of the windows, he had cried himself to an uneasy sleep.  
  
-  
  
 _Sometimes, Loki felt like he was different. Different from his brothers who were both not only taller and stronger, but also more carefree in their attitudes and in their lives. They were still raised as princes, just like him. However, their education had never been as strict as his, had never included having to learn all about foreign customs, strange customs, customs he neither understood nor wanted to understand.  
  
("There will be times you'll have to kneel before another king," his father said once, and when Loki asked why - because kings were equal, weren't they? And Laufey never did kneel before anybody, or did he? -, his father suddenly looked very sad and laid a hand on Loki's head. "We will never be equal to the Asgardians.")_  
  
-  
  
 _Sometimes, Loki remembered something he might have dreamed. He remembered being small - smaller than ever, even though he wasn't very tall to begin with - and helpless, wrapped in a blanket and lying on the ground of a building.  
  
There was a man looming over him, his skin a strange pinkish colour. Loki didn't remember his face anymore, only the golden shine of metal covering one of his eyes. "A boy?" the man asked, his voice close to disappointment and anger. There was another voice, words Loki could not understand, and then the man said: "It will suffice" and picked him up.  
  
A warmth flooded through his infant body, almost too hot, too bright. Until this day he remembered it clearly, eventhough he'd never felt something like this again.  
  
(He asked his father about this dream, too. Once. After the look of terror on Laufey's features, he had never dared to speak of it again.)_  
  
-  
  
A knock on the door startled him out of his sleep. His breathing was fast and uneven and when he opened his eyes, he saw that the sun had already risen high and was flooding his chambers with an almost too bright light. How long had he slept? Had he missed an important appointment or something similar? ... no. Nobody had told him anything about appointments for this day.  
  
It knocked again, and with a small sigh, Loki got up (and hissed at the sudden jolt of pain the movement produced - nothing a simple flick of his wrist and an incantated healing spell couldn't have taken care of, but he had decided to not do it, to keep the pain as a reminder of his failure and stupidity) and hurled his night-gown over his head to be at least halfway presentable, then hurried to the door.  
  
His father was standing on the other side of the door and scurried inside as soon as Loki had taken half a step aside. Laufey stood in the room, making it look much smaller than it actually was, and turned around to face Loki. The look on his face was a strange mixture of concern and joy, which made - in turn - Loki's face contort in confusion.  
  
"Is ... something the matter, father?"  
  
"Son ... "  
  
 _Oh, this isn't good. He already knows what I've done._ "Y-yes?"  
  
Laufey paused for a moment and then moved his hands in a couple of complicated gestures until something emerged just in front of Loki: a small, rectangular box that emitted a warm blue light from within. "This," Laufey said proudly, "is the Casket od Ancient Winters."  
  
"It is beautiful," Loki whispered in awe and knelt down to touch it with trembling fingers. He could feel its power, its _magic_ licking at his fingertips, begging to be used, begging to create and turn dead land into living glory.  
  
"Our sacrifice has been worth it."  
  
Sacrifice ... Loki flinched and jerked his hand back. "Father, I -"  
  
"You have brought glory to our kin, my son."  
  
"I ... " So his father didn't know yet. He didn't know. And he had the Casket now. This could be seen as treachery, could be enough reason for the Asgardians to maim and slaughter like they always did. He ... would have to kneel before the Odinson, would have to gravel at his feet and beg and endure every torture he might deem fitting for threatening him, for speaking up, and maybe he would take Loki again and again and it would hurt even more and -  
  
"You have made me proud, Loki."  
  
\- he felt like throwing up right now.


End file.
